


You Better Keep Quiet

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [77]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Cocky Derek Hale, Come Sharing, Dom Derek Hale, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Face-Sitting, Facials, Light Feminization, M/M, Manhandling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Derek Hale, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rimming, Sub Stiles Stilinski, Top Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26089588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: The Sheriff comes home in the middle of Stiles and Derek having sex. Derek doesn't stop.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [77]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/887604
Comments: 44
Kudos: 796
Collections: Teen Wolf ▶ Derek Hale / Stiles Stilinski





	You Better Keep Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> With 27 votes, this PWP was the winner of the previous poll. I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> **P.S. Once the Sheriff makes his appearance, Stiles' consent becomes a bit dubious at first. Just go with it.**

On Friday evening, Stiles is in the middle of proofreading an essay for English class when he hears a familiar rapping on his bedroom window. Ripping his gaze from the glare of his laptop screen, he peers at the pane of glass to figure out which werewolf is paying him a visit this evening. Because it's dark outside, he can't see anything but his own reflection, but he has his suspicions. His heartbeat picks up as he gets up from his computer chair and walks over to open the window.

Opening it, Stiles is pleased to find his suspicions were right. He just hopes his Sourwolf is here for a social visit and not to deliver news of some new terrible threat to their safety.

"Hey," Derek says as he slides though the frame with an enviable amount of grace. He stands at his full height and gives Stiles a rare smile.

A social visit, then. Thank fuck.

"Hey," Stiles echoes. He should probably go back to his desk and finish his essay, but he can't seem to look away.

Fuck, Derek's just so pretty, especially with that smile and his torso hugged tightly by a maroon henley that must be at least one size too small—Stiles very much enjoys Derek's penchant for tight clothing.

"Is your dad at the station?" Derek asks. He surveys the room as if he hasn't been here dozens of times in recent months, ever since Gerard was defeated and the tension that's always been between them finally boiled over. It resulted in a scorching-hot kiss, a bit of dry-humping and then many a clandestine meeting, either for more sexytimes or just to see each other.

Stiles never would've imagined that Derek would act like that in a relationship, least of all that Derek would want _him_ , but here they are.

"Yeah." Without thinking about it, Stiles shuts his laptop; he can finish proofreading later. "You didn't see the missing cruiser?"

"I did," Derek says, taking a step closer. "I just wanted to know if he'll be gone for a while."

"Oh." _Where's he going with this?_ Stiles muses. "Well…yeah, he should be."

"Good."

"Why's that good?"

Derek takes another step, putting them nearly chest-to-chest—and what a chest Derek has… _Damn_. "I just wanted to see you."

Stiles catches on and feels a thrill go through him, his dick twitching in his jeans. "Just see me?"

Derek's smile turns into a smirk that should not be as sexy as it is. "That…and other things."

Yeah, it's definitely _that_ kind of visit.

Stiles juts his chin out and cockily issues a challenge, even as his breath becomes shaky. "Well, what's taking so long?"

The smirk transforms into a grin, displaying teeth that are a bit too sharp to be entirely human, and then Derek pounces. Stiles bumps into his desk, knocking something over, but he doesn't care about the brief pain or something potentially breaking because Derek puts his mouth on his and presses their bodies together from head to toe. Stiles clings to the 'wolf and relishes the feeling of muscular arms holding him tight and the taste of Derek's lips, as addictive as ever. Stiles will never get enough.

"Off!" he manages to get out between kisses, tugging on Derek's henley.

"Yeah?" Derek rests their foreheads together and looks right into Stiles' eyes with his own glowing red. "You wanna touch me?"

"Always," Stiles answers honestly.

"Needy."

"So damn needy," Stiles admits shamelessly. "So get naked already 'cause I wanna climb you like a tree."

Derek chuckles and pulls back. Stiles opens his mouth to complain, but the words die in his throat as he watches Derek reach for the hem of his henley and peel it up his torso, so slowly that it drives Stiles insane. Once it's finally off, he throws it carelessly into the corner and begins kicking off his shoes as he undoes the fastenings of his jeans.

"You've gotta get naked too for this to work, y'know," Derek points out, arching a bushy eyebrow.

Stiles gulps. "Right."

His hands shake as he unbuttons his plaid overshirt, revealing just how affected he is by the display of tanned skin and muscle in front of him. The fur on Derek's chest doesn't help, his nipples tight and pebbled and suckable…

When, finally, both of them are as naked as the days they were born, Derek grabs Stiles and spins them around. Before Stiles knows what's happening, the Alpha picks him up and throws him, and he lands with a squawk on his bed, bouncing a couple times before coming to a stop. He blinks dazedly at the ceiling, and then his view is obstructed by something much, much better as Derek straddles his thighs and leans over him. He does nothing else, just hovers there, his stupidly handsome face inches above Stiles', blood-red eyes hooded and pupils dilated with lust.

"You have a problem with manhandling," Stiles says, just to fill the silence.

Derek cocks his head to the side. "I've never heard you complaining. In fact, I seem to remember you being all for it when I held you up and fucked you against a wall last week."

Okay. Point.

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Fine…I guess you've got me there."

"And I've got you here, right now," Derek growls. He noses beneath Stiles' jaw, and Stiles feels a hint of fang scrape over his neck. " _Mine_."

The possessive declaration has Stiles' cock leaking where it rests curved up against his stomach. "Y-yours," he stammers.

It's true.

Derek places a series of kisses across his neck and then sets to work marking him up—Stiles has half a mind to tell him to stop, or at least not to leave hickeys in places that can't be covered up by clothes. But he doesn't. He opens his mouth but all that comes out is a groan, his hands clutching helplessly at Derek's broad shoulders.

Fuck it. He'll regret it the next morning, when he has to either avoid his dad or lie through his teeth, but it feels too good in the moment for him to care all that much.

He'll wear Derek's marks with pride.

"Mine," the Alpha says again, picking himself up so he can admire his work.

"You're a possessive bastard tonight," Stiles notes breathily.

"Full moon," is all the explanation Derek gives, which Stiles supposes is enough—the full moon is just a day away and would bring his animal half closer to the surface. Hence the marking.

With a final nip to Stiles' collarbone, Derek gets off of him and sits back on his heels, one hand stroking his cock absentmindedly. "Get the lube."

Not in the mood to argue—he wants Derek to put his dick in him too—Stiles fumbles for the top drawer in his nightstand and rummages around inside until he comes into contact with the familiar half-empty tube. He tosses it at Derek and lies there confused when Derek doesn't do what he was expecting. Instead of popping the cap after catching the tube and fingering Stiles open, the Alpha slithers up Stiles' body until he straddles Stiles' chest, his majestic dick right in front of the human's face. Stiles thinks Derek is going to fuck his mouth and opens it ready, but that's not what happens either.

"Wha—?" he says dumbly, looking up the length of Derek's body to meet his gaze.

"Patience…" Derek responds.

Then he turns around and gives Stiles an up-close-and-personal view of his ass, his cheeks firm, perfectly round, and hairy.

Oh.

That's what they're doing.

Okay, then.

"I'm gonna sit on your face while I stretch you open for me," Derek says, looking back over his shoulder.

He bends forward and tugs on Stiles' legs, getting him to curl them up so he can tuck the backs of Stiles' knees beneath his arms. This means that most of Stiles' back comes up off of the bedding and his neck ends up bent at an awkward and slightly uncomfortable angle, but he can't complain because it also puts him at a better angle to see Derek's ass—which is coming closer and oh god he's not really going to—

Stiles takes a deep breath before he's basically smothered by it. When Derek said he was going to sit on his face, he meant it literally.

At first, Stiles can barely breathe. He puts his hands on Derek's ass and tries to push him away, but Derek is immovable above him. All Stiles can do is stay there, his nose stuck between Derek's hairy cheeks, his mouth right under Derek's hole. He startles when he feels a slick finger at his own entrance, rubbing in circles around it, coaxing him to relax. He makes a concerted effort, takes as deep a breath as he can, and Derek slides his finger inside to the last knuckle. He thrusts it in and out a few times before removing it, but it's back again seconds later with more lube and a twin.

"C'mon, be a good boy and eat me out, Stiles," Derek says, rocking his ass back and forth over Stiles' face.

Fuck, that dirty talk… If he had to bet all of his money before they got together, Stiles would bet on Derek being the silent and intense type in bed. He would've been right about intense, but he'd still have lost everything because, damn, does Derek come alive in the sack, pure filth pouring from his lips.

Stiles shuts his eyes and sticks out his tongue to lick over his lover's hole, the hairs around it tickling him. It tastes slightly salty but not unpleasant, so Stiles does it again and puts more strength behind it, prodding at the furled muscle with the tip of his tongue to get it to open up like Derek is opening him up. He sucks in great breaths through his nose every few seconds, needy things that sound too loud in his ears, and all he can smell is Derek; musky and slightly sweaty, just the right side of unclean to still be a turn-on.

As unsure as Stiles was of having Derek sit on his face at first, it's actually pretty damn good.

"That's it," Derek murmurs encouragingly as he works a third finger into Stiles' hole. There's a burn to it now, but every time it verges on too much, Derek spends a few seconds rubbing deliberately over his prostate.

When Derek manages to squeeze in his pinky as well, he takes all four fingers away and gets off of Stiles. The human breathes in greedily, finally able to fill his lungs to capacity.

"F-fucking hell…" he gasps, blinking up at Derek.

Said werewolf insinuates himself between Stiles' legs, one hand working lube along his shaft. "Don't act like you didn't love it."

Stiles can't refute it. He did. "Still…"

"Don't worry. I'll let you eat me out again soon," Derek promises. He plants his free hand next to Stiles' head and smirks down at him.

"What a privilege," Stiles banters, touching Derek's chest. He tugs impatiently on his chest hair and flicks one of his nipples. "Are you gonna fuck me already or what?"

Derek swipes his tongue out over his bottom lip, wetting it. "You want it?"

Stiles nods.

"Tell me."

A frown this time. "Huh?"

"Tell me how much you want it," Derek clarifies, radiating smugness and superiority. It should make Stiles want to punch him, but it's just arousing.

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, feeling like a fish out of water, before getting his bearings. His cheeks heat up. Is Derek really making him do this?

"I…I want it," he whispers, staring at Derek's collarbones instead of meeting his gaze.

"Want what?" Derek's eyes seem to burn brighter. "Be specific, now."

Fuck, Derek really _is_ making him do this.

"I want…" Stiles gathers his courage, even as embarrassment makes his skin prickle. "I want your cock."

As soon as he says that, a car door slams outside. It's close—too close to have come from a neighbour. "The hell?" he mouths. "Is that…?"

"Your dad?" Derek says casually. "Yeah. I heard him pull in."

"Fuck!"

Stiles shoves at Derek to get him off of him. It's regretful—he was really looking forward to getting dicked down tonight—but it can't be helped. He's not risking fooling around when his dad is home, not when he's still underage and his dad doesn't know he and Derek are together. Hell, his dad doesn't even know that Stiles swings both ways yet. There's just one problem:

Derek still won't allow himself to be moved.

"Get off," Stiles says. He strains his ears, listening for the sound of keys in the front door.

Derek acts confused. "Why?"

" _Why_? Seriously? Because my dad's home!"

Derek appears to contemplate it for a moment—fucking bastard—before shaking his head. "Nah, I don't think I will."

" _What_?!"

"You said you wanted my cock," Derek reminds him, nudging the head at Stiles' loosened hole. "And how can I deprive you when you asked me so nicely?"

Stiles' eyes widen so much, they nearly pop out of their sockets. "You can't be serious."

Pushing forward a bit, just enough for the head of his dick to get past the first ring of muscle, Derek brings his other hand up and clamps it over Stiles' mouth. "As a heart attack," he says with a feral grin.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this can't be happening…

Stiles shuts his eyes tight and moans as Derek thrusts the rest of the way forward, sheathing himself completely. His heartbeat is loud in his ears and he digs his nails hard into the meat of Derek's shoulders as he starts fucking him, the movement of his hips sinuous and syrupy slow. As much as he would like to protest further, it feels too good, the head of Derek's cock glancing off of his prostate every few thrusts. It sends frissons of pleasure down his spine, has his toes curling in the air.

Besides, soon enough, he hears the front door slam downstairs over the sound of his own heart and knows it's too late.

He glares up at Derek, who just stares unrepentantly back.

"Think about it," the werewolf says, bringing his mouth close to Stiles' ear. "Isn't this hot, nearly getting caught?"

Stiles shakes his head as much as he can in Derek's grip.

"See, I think you're lying." Derek looks down between their bodies. "You're still hard and leaking for me, and this is what you wanted—my cock inside you, filling up your needy little _cunt_."

Stiles chokes on his own breath. "Not a cunt," he says against Derek's palm. The words are muffled, but Derek must understand them anyway.

"Agree to disagree," the Alpha says. "You feel amazing around me…so tight and wet and warm inside…best cunt I've ever fucked."

Another frisson of pleasure. Stiles realises he has a kink for feminisation he never knew about. Well, then…

A few thrusts later, Stiles picks up the sound of his dad's footsteps on the stairs and his panic renews. His light is still on, so what if his dad enters his bedroom and sees him and Derek right now? That would be catastrophic, would probably end with Derek getting a bullet somewhere in his body.

He turns his head enough to peer at his closed door as the footsteps reach the top of the stairs and get closer to his bedroom. All the while, Derek keeps on fucking him. He even picks up the pace of his thrusts a bit, not enough to have the headboard slamming into the wall, but enough that Stiles has to bite his own tongue almost hard enough to bleed to prevent himself from making any sound. He can't afford to alert his dad to what's happening on the other side of his door.

"Better keep quiet," Derek cautions him with a cheeky wink.

Stiles' eyes water. He scrabbles at Derek's shoulders and a small whine slips out. Derek's hand muffles it, but it's still audible.

The Sheriff comes to a stop right outside his door and knocks on the wood. "Stiles? You awake in there?" he calls.

"Remember: quiet," Derek whispers. He finally removes his hand from Stiles' mouth and, to make it extra difficult, switches up the angle of his next few thrusts, really gunning for Stiles' prostate.

Stiles holds his breath and hides his face in Derek's neck as he waits, cursing his stupid boyfriend all the while. They're having words after this.

Eventually, after Stiles has somehow remained silent, the Sheriff moves on and Stiles hears the bathroom door shut and lock. He lets go of the air in his lungs and rests his head back on the pillows. "You're such an asshole!" he hisses through his teeth, even as he wraps his legs tighter around Derek's hips.

"And proud of it," Derek says, that infuriating grin once again adorning his lips.

Now that the Sheriff is in the bathroom, he takes that as his cue to kick things up another notch. He fucks Stiles harder, the headboard hitting the wall a couple times, and now that there's less chance of being caught, Stiles has to admit—if only to himself—that Derek had a point about the thrill of it all. The adrenaline of their close call still courses through his veins, heightening his arousal and the pleasure he gets from being joined with Derek like this.

It's so…naughty.

Stiles never would've chosen to do this if Derek hadn't all but forced him, but he…he doesn't exactly hate it.

"There you go," Derek says, kissing over his face. "Just give into it."

"Like you're giving me a choice," Stiles grits out. He tips his head back and reaches around Derek to hold on to his ass, relishing the way the hair-dusted globes flex with each thrust.

"You love it."

" _Mmf_! N-no comment…"

Eventually, Stiles registers the familiar tingling in his lower gut that foretells an orgasm. "I'm getting close."

Derek's beta shift takes over, teeth becoming fangs, coarse hair growing down the sides of his face, his brow getting heavier and devoid of hair. "Just in time," he growls, curling a clawed hand around Stiles' erection. He strokes him hard and fast, his claws providing another element of danger.

Stiles doesn't have to ask what he means because the bathroom door opens then, and his dad walks the hallway again.

"Come for me," Derek commands, swiping the pad of his thumb over Stiles' slit.

Right as his dad passes by his door, Stiles' orgasm tears through him. He bites into the stretch of skin between Derek's neck and shoulder to preclude making too much noise and giving the game away. He holds on for dear life as he makes a mess of himself, jizz splattering across his belly as Derek fucks him through it. When it's over, his cock becomes oversensitive in Derek's grip and his high gradually fades—just like his dad's footsteps fade as he descends the stairs outside, probably heading to the kitchen to grab himself a beer and unwind after a long day of acting as the Sheriff.

"Good boy," Derek coos at him, bringing the movement of his hips to a halt.

He pulls out of Stiles' body, shushing Stiles when he winces, and retakes his earlier position over the teenager's chest. This puts his lube-slick cock back in front of Stiles' mouth.

"Stick out your tongue," Derek orders.

Complying tiredly, Stiles just lies there and watches the play of muscle as Derek finishes himself off. Derek's hairy chest glistens with a light sheen of sweat, and his heavy, low-hanging balls swing back and forth fast between his thighs.

He looks like a god, one that Stiles would happily worship at the feet of for life—even with how much of a dick he is.

Finally, with a truncated whine, Derek throws his head back and reaches his climax, thick come spurting from the tip of his cock. It gets all over Stiles' face, hitting his cheeks, nose and tongue. He somehow doesn't get any in his eyes, but he does get a particularly adventurous string on the lower half of his forehead, ending just above his eyebrow. He keeps his tongue sticking out until Derek recovers enough to look down at him again, and then, maintaining eye contact, he retracts it back into his mouth and swirls the salty load around. He plays it up, moaning as loud as he dares.

"Tastes good," he says after swallowing.

Derek laughs softly as his beta shift recedes. His eyes remain red. "Little cumslut."

With a finger, he traces through the other bits of come on Stiles' face and feeds them to him. Once there's just one bit left, on Stiles' cheek, he shuffles backward so he's sitting on Stiles' thighs, leans down and licks it off. Stiles wrinkles his nose but quickly forgets about it when he suddenly has Derek's tongue in his mouth, sharing the last taste of himself.

" _Mine_ ," Derek growls when the filthy kiss ends. "You'll smell like me for days. Everyone in the pack will know."

Stiles groans. "Great, just what I need…more of Erica's teasing and Scott and Isaac running the other way as if I'm carrying a disease whenever they get a whiff of me."

"You'll deal with it."

Derek flops down on his back next to him, apparently having no intention of getting dressed or leaving yet. He tucks a hand behind his head, settling in.

With a roll of his eyes, Stiles curls into Derek's side and pillows his head on Derek's chest. "Don't think I'm not gonna pay you back for what you did, Mister," he warns, pinching the Alpha's nipple.

Derek grunts. His soft cock gives a valiant twitch where it rests sticky against his thigh. "I look forward to it."

They lie there for a while, basking in the afterglow, until Stiles' dad comes back upstairs and shuts himself in the master bedroom.

"S'he going to bed?" Stiles enquires, his eyes drooping.

Derek yawns. "Mmhmm."

" 'K…"

Skating his fingers up and down Stiles' side, Derek makes a deep, rumbling sound in his chest that soothes the boy even further. It's almost like a purr. "You should sleep too."

"What about my dad?"

"I'll leave after you're asleep, before your dad can catch me," Derek says, kissing Stiles' temple. "But I can stay a bit longer."

Stiles quickly loses the fight with his eyelids. He lets them slip closed with a contented sigh and snuggles even closer to Derek, his body aching in all the best ways. Derek's warmth, the steady beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest beneath his cheek soon lulls Stiles under, happy and sated.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, what did you all think? It came out a bit more dubious-consenty in the middle than I originally intended, but I enjoyed writing it and don't regret the direction it took. It's not often I write a version of Derek that's this cocky and cheeky or—some might say—mean, but this was a delightful exception. I may just have to write more of it in the future. He definitely has that side in him. The poor Sheriff had no idea what Derek was doing to his son just down the hall… Naughty Sourwolf. ;)
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, which came in 2nd place in the poll with 15 votes. In it, Stiles uses his spark to play sexy games with Derek. I'll have another poll soon, so stay tuned for that as well.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future updates go live. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**
> 
> **P.P.S. I'm now taking prompts again! If you have a dirty idea you want me to write—the dirtier, the better—leave it a comment down below and I'll see what I can do. My only conditions are that it's M/M and involves Stiles and Derek. A third male character being included, making it M/M/M instead, is also fine.**


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